


To Sacrifice 10 Pounds of Flesh (To Survive the Trial of the Flesh)

by maccabird_23



Series: Trial of the Flesh [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23646784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maccabird_23/pseuds/maccabird_23
Summary: “Eryk or Oskar then?” Eskel asked in a hushed whisper, sitting down next to Geralt after practice, watching as the last few Witchers arrived for the winter. Geralt turned, understanding Eskel’s question as he saw Oskar arrive at the gate. Eryk had arrived a few days before. They were the only alphas who arrived in time for Geralt’s heat.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Trial of the Flesh [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702399
Comments: 9
Kudos: 115





	To Sacrifice 10 Pounds of Flesh (To Survive the Trial of the Flesh)

“The people who made us, they made us sterile for a lot of reasons. One of the kinder ones is that this lifestyle isn’t suited for a child.” Geralt had meant it to a degree, looking at Yennefer and feeling an ache in his belly like an echo, empty but loud. At Kaer Morhan they had put them through the Trials of the Grasses right before they reached puberty and before their secondary sex could present.

Witchers already had insatiable sex drives. Having a school full of presenting Alphas and Omegas would be nothing but chaos. However, on the rare occasion a child would survive the trial with their secondary sex still intact. It didn’t happen often but those few Witchers who became Alphas or Omegas and therefore were still fertile were expected to survive one last trial. The Trial of the Flesh.

At seventeen, Geralt was quite jealous of Eskel. He had finished the Trial of the Mountains and though tired and scarred he was ready to move on to the next step of finding his armor and weapons. Soon he would be on the Path and Geralt would be stuck at Kaer Morhen until his last trial was complete.

“It is only another nine months. You’ll survive.” Lambert said with a roll of his eyes, testing his new sword against Eskel’s shield. They were both infertile and though they had an amazing sense of smell, Geralt’s upcoming heat did nothing for them.

“You smell like baked honey.” Eskel had commented during his first heat years ago, pressing his nose to Geralt’s mating glands. “It makes me hungry but stirs nothing in my pants. Maybe if I had a food fetish…” He wasn’t able to finish as Geralt punched him in the nose.

There were only a few other Witchers Geralt knew of that had presented as either Alpha or Omega and all of them were much older than him. He had always been too afraid to talk to them, ask them what the Trials of the Flesh would be like, especially to Kacper, the only other Omega Witcher he knew.

He had only just survived the Trial of the Mountains at the ending of the fall and as winter crept onto the grounds he knew all the older Witchers would be back. At which point his last trial would begin. 

“Eryk or Oskar then?” Eskel asked in a hushed whisper, sitting down next to Geralt after practice, watching as the last few Witchers arrived for the winter. Geralt turned, understanding Eskel’s question as he saw Oskar arrive at the gate. Eryk had arrived a few days before. They were the only Alphas who arrived in time for Geralt’s heat.

Geralt looked down at his practice sword, nodding in answer. They already knew the rules. Geralt would choose between whichever Alphas came back for the winter to see him through his final trial. As Alpha Witchers they could not turn him down. That was part of an Alpha’s trial. “Who will you choose?” Lambert asked, all curiosity and no fear. Unlike like Geralt, who was nothing but nerves. Not that he would let the younger boy see his worries.

Over dinner he thought about it, eyeing both Alphas who glanced at him with interest as they sniffed the air. They were Witchers after all and knew how to control their most primitive needs and emotions. Any human Alphas in the same circumstances, competing for an Omega in heat would be acting like fools, growling and posturing.

Geralt finally felt the first tendrils of heat overcome him, the seat of his pants soaking with slick. Both Alpha Witchers were strong and about two decades older than him. Eryk was bigger in every way possible, bulkier and towering over everyone at nearly seven feet. He had a long scar going from his nose down to navel. Geralt had seen it earlier as he helped train the littles. He would be an amazing father, Geralt thought before shaking the idea away. It was the Omega in heat thinking such foolish thoughts. Even if Eryk got him with child, the babe would never belong to them. They wouldn’t be there as it grew or took its first steps. Wouldn’t know the child at all besides being one of the many littles at the school. 

Oskar was one of the older Witchers, nearing Vesemir’s years. Most Witchers didn’t live that long but Geralt put it down to Oskar’s brains rather than his brawn. He was definitely more powerful, able to go up against magical beasts without a sword, depending solely on his ability to cast. What a wonderful trait he could gift a child, Geralt thought. Especially, if he wouldn’t be there as the child went through the trials. The prospect of his child going through the trials stirred something rotten down in his guts. If it was up to him… Geralt shook his head again, not wanting to think about that. He didn’t have that choice. The only decision he was given was which Alpha Witcher would fill him with child, Eryk or Oskar?

Geralt pushed away his plate, not able to eat another bite with his stomach in knots. He steeled himself as he walked over to the table where all the older Witchers’ were gathered. Not all of them had arrived yet, including Kacper. Geralt had wished to speak to him before his trial but now it was too late. By tomorrow his heat would be in full force and he would barely be able to form words, let alone choose an Alpha. 

He took a deep breath, catching the attention of the table. Only Eryk and Oskar turned to look at him. Their smells hit him like a swift blow of the sword. However, it was one scent that seemed to center him, a mix of dry leaves and tree sap that both comforted and riled something deep inside of Geralt. As he walked closer it became unmistakable whose scent he was drawn to.

“Eryk… will you take me to your room?” Geralt winced at how uncertain he sounded, young and naïve. Even if he was an Omega he was still a Witcher. In another year he would be out on his Path and these men would be his equals. He stood up straighter, puffing out his chest and displaying his new muscles as Eryk rose to meet him.

Geralt barely cleared the older Witcher’s clavicles, holding still as Eryk ran a rough hand through his long, brown hair. It was a silly tradition, Omegas keeping their hair long to differentiate from their Alpha counterparts but something that Geralt clung to. There weren’t many frivolities Vesemir allowed Geralt as the only Omega at Kaer Morhen but keeping his hair long was one of them.

Eryk’s hand trailed from his hair to his mouth, then nose and finally settling just above his eye, thumb brushing against his brow. “Before the Trial of Dreams what was your eye color?” Geralt had to take a moment, the Alpha’s touch overwhelming on his heat sensitive skin and the peculiar question muddling his senses.

“I think they were blue.” Geralt had been fourteen during the Trial of the Dreams, which was only a short three years ago but he’d become so used to looking into a mirror and seeing amber that imagining his eyes as the light blue they once were seemed almost alien. “They were light blue.”

Geralt felt himself moving closer to Eryk involuntarily, his earthy scent and dark brown hair soothing Geralt’s inner Omega. He worked up the courage to reach up and touch the older Witcher but Eryk turned away, sitting down without a second glance. “I won’t take you to bed, Omega. Take Oskar. He’s more than willing.”

Geralt’s stomach sank at the rebuff, cheeks heating in embarrassment. His eyes searched the hall for Vesemir but once he found the older Witcher, he didn’t seem bothered by the proceedings. Face passive as he silently watched. Geralt turned back to the table, swallowing down his embarrassment as it gave way to anger. Out of everything that could occur during his last trial Geralt hadn’t expected this. To have his only choice be taken away from him. To be turned down by his chosen Alpha. Had he been found lacking? His scent repulsive? His features or body not properly delicate and Omega enough?

Fuck that, Geralt thought. He walked closer to Eryk’s turned back, smart enough to not to touch an older Witcher but angry enough to still confront him. “I chose you. You cannot say no to me. This is not only my trial but yours as well.” Geralt heard the Alpha growl and before he could back away a hand caught his forearm, shaking him so hard that he thought his shoulder would dislocate. Geralt held in a broken whimper as long as he could but it escaped his lips as Eryk pushed him away.

“I said no, bitch.” Geralt tumbled backwards with the force and would have fallen to the ground if a pair of steadying hands and a sturdy chest hadn’t caught him. He turned slightly, meeting Oskar’s eyes and worried face. He didn’t say anything as he led Geralt from the hall. He passed by Eskel but couldn’t meet his eyes. However, his friend touched his arm as he passed. It was meant to be a kindness but only embarrassed him further, knowing his friend pitied him.

Once in the room Oskar set to work lighting the fireplace, back turned to Geralt. “There’s extra bedding in the trunk. My clothes are in my pack. For your nest.” He didn’t need any more prompting, getting the threadbare blankets from the trunk and pressing them against his face. They didn’t smell like much, moths and wood. Geralt arranged them on the bed with shaky hands and knees. He tried to calm his Omega, taking deep breaths. He needed to scent Oskar’s clothes.

He moved to the other side of the room, removing Oskar’s used clothes from his sack. Pressing them to his nose, he inhaled his particular scent, wet roots and bitter herb. It wasn’t the most appealing but his Omega drank it up, especially after being rejected by another, stronger Alpha.

At the bottom of the rucksack his finger picked up a box. Geralt took it out, curiosity peaking as he examined it. He shook it gently, hearing something small jingle inside. His Omega wanted nothing more than to open it. After all, it was only customary that an Alpha present an Omega with a gift before sharing his heat. Geralt shook his head, slowly putting it down. He wasn’t a normal Omega and this wasn’t a normal heat. He was a Witcher and this was his trial.

Geralt set to work arranging Oskar’s clothes in the middle of the nest, taking off his own shirt, pants and small clothes before adding them to the nest as well. He didn’t waste time, presenting himself on hands and knees. Geralt wasn’t shy about his body. After the trials and years spent sharing a dorm with other boys had left him with little shame like most human Omegas. He felt the slick drip down his naked thigh and even though his erection had waned after the embarrassment at dinner he knew his Omega was ready to be mounted. “I am ready to be mounted.” He said, sensing the hesitation from the older WItcher behind him.

“So I’ve gathered” Oskar said with a laugh on his breath, “Open this first.” Geralt felt the press of something cold and square on his back. Turning quickly to sit, he grabbed at the box. The same he had seen earlier. He looked up at Oskar questioningly, not want to presume. “It’s a heat gift. Open it, Omega.”

Gerlat hid a smile behind his long hair, opening the box to reveal a shiny, silver trinket. Scooping it out, he held the delicate bracelet between two fingers. It was quite simple with no jewels or elaborate designs that most Omegas wore but Geralt at once loved it as he held it out to Oskar. “Put it on me, Alpha.”

Oskar laughed once more, moving onto the bed until his hips were cradled between Geralt’s open thighs. He was shirtless, down to nothing but his pants and small clothes. Geralt’s breath hitched as Oskar’s muscled stomach rubbed against his groin, heating his flesh and making him slick. By the time the small chain was clasped around his wrist Geralt was ready to crawl out of his skin, he was so sensitive. “Will you knot me now?” He asked, pushing the palm of his hand against the front of Oskar’s pants and feeling his hardness.

Oskar raised an eyebrow, disentangling their limbs to push down his pants and small clothes. “Knots don’t work like that, Omega. Have you been with other boys during your heat?” The Alpha didn’t waste time, pushing Geralt’s knees to his chest and with one swift move shoved himself to the hilt inside the younger Witcher.

Geralt’s breath caught in his chest like he’d just been sucker punched. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant but just a lot. His slick made it easy for Oskar to thrust in and out with an unforgiving pace. If he was a human Omega he wouldn’t be able to withstand such a brutal taking but he was a Witcher.

“Vesemir gave me practice knots for my heats.” They hadn’t been as big as Oskar but they got the job done. “Last year another boy snuck in during my heat but I wore him out by the second day.” Eskel thought he could help him but ended up with a back full of deep scratches and a limp that lasted for two weeks.

Oskar growled deep in his chest, letting his hips roll deeper until his heavy balls beat against Geralt’s ass. “An Alpha’s knot is nothing like those practice toys or a boy’s cock. And an Alpha Witcher is the only creature that could properly take an Omega Witcher.” He followed the statement with one, two, three, four hard thrusts, leaning down to lick Geralt’s mating glands at his neck. “I can knot you for hours without rest. By morning, if we are both successful in our trial then I should have fucked the heat out of you. Gotten you filled with a child.” He kissed the tip of his ear before whispering, “A powerful Witcher child.”

The words almost hit harder than Oskar’s thrusts and Geralt let out a wild, inhuman sound before wrapping his legs and arms around Oskar’s back, finding any available flesh and clawing at it like a cat catching its prey. The primal part of Geralt, the Omega in the throes of heat wanted nothing more than a strong, healthy child and knew that Oskar could most definitely provide him one. 

Oskar growled, raising his head to catch a breath as Geralt carved his nails from shoulder to ass, trying to push his Alpha deeper. Oskar snarled, baring his fanged teeth before diving back down and biting into Gerlat’s shoulder, deep into that sensitive area between neck and chest. Geralt cried out like he was being stabbed, not because of the pain or blood but because Oskar had not bitten into his mating glands. The one thing that would tie them together forever. Geralt wanted that bite more than he wanted air in his lungs.

“Calm yourself, Omega. Vesemir will slit my throat before he let me keep you.” The Omega inside Geralt didn’t understand why he was being deprived. Didn’t know why a strong Alpha like Oskar would submit to Vesemir so easily. He bit at the Alpha, at his chin, neck, shoulder; trying to tempt him into biting back. Oskar growled in warning, pulling out of Geralt with a slick sound before flipping the Omega onto his belly, grabbing a handful of hair and shoving his head into the pillow. “I said calm yourself, bitch.” Oskar squeezed at the back of his neck, like a misbehaving pup. It served to temper him, slow his breathing and clear his heat addled mind as Oskar thrust back into him, knot finally forming.

The Witcher inside Geralt, though quiet as he was being knotted, understood Oskar’s meaning dearly. If the Alpha Witcher bonded Gerlat with his bite then he would no longer belong to the School of the Wolf. No, Geralt and their child would then belong to Oskar and Vesemir would never allow that. Losing two possibly powerful Witchers to another. It would be more economical to just kill Oskar. The Omega in Geralt would mourn for a while but in nine months’ time he would give birth and then be on his own Path soon after. Sacrificing one Witcher to the Trial of the Flesh for the two that would be born out of it. 

Geralt winced as his body stretched to accept Oskar’s full knot, felt the last few thrashes of his orgasm pumped into him. He turned his head to the side, taking deep breaths until Oskar finally stilled inside his body. Geralt hadn’t come but his Omega was sated, having his Alpha’s knot and seed. He didn’t realize he was cold until Oskar’s warm chest was pressed against his back. He sighed, letting the Alpha play with his hair. “Is it over?” He asked, his heat quelled under the Alpha’s large hands and knot. In the past it would take a week minimum to get his heat this calm.

Geralt felt a tickle of a laugh against his ear. “We have just started, Omega.” His eyes widened, feeling Oskar grow hard in him once again. He didn’t know how it was possible, his own member getting hard as well, stuck between his stomach and bedding. His channel became slick as the Alpha started to jerk his hips, cock still stuck inside Geralt as he dragged them both to their knees. “Push down against my knot, Omega.”

Geralt’s thighs quivered, muscles straining and trying to decide if the pain was worth the pleasure as his body sank down farther onto Oskar’s knot. He didn’t think he could feel any fuller. He felt impaled, a suckling pig stuck on a pike, readied for the fire. Geralt grabbed at Oskar’s hand, bringing it to his lower belly, letting him feel where his cock plowed through his body. His Alpha growled into his neck, licking but not biting at his mating glands. “If I could…” he whispered.

“You can’t.” Geralt cut him off before he could rouse the Omega in him. He lowered Oskar’s hand until it was wrapped around Geralt’s member. “Make me come, Alpha.” Oskar had been right. An Alpha Witcher could knot for an entire night without tiring. Geralt had come too many times to count, his Alpha’s knot never leaving his body but just continuously filling him with seed.

By the time the sun started to rise Geralt was a limpet, back stuck to Oskar’s front by sweat and slick. He thought the Alpha Witcher was asleep as light sprinkled through the window, shining off Oskar’s heat gift. He played with it, knowing that any time he touched it he would think of the night that had just passed. “Your heat is over.” Oskar whispered against his neck, pulling his soft cock out of Geralt’s body.

“Am I pregnant?” Geralt felt normal, tired, sore and hungry but back to his old self. He knew his heat was over. The quickest it had ever been. He felt Oskar’s hand settle on his belly, battle rough fingers stroking the hard flesh there. “Have I passed the Trial of the Flesh?”

“You are most certainly pregnant. It is still early but I can smell it on you. Baked honey and something… something else. The scent of this child.” He turned Geralt, until they were facing each other. Oskar’s brow wrinkled, worry etched against his face then disappearing as he looked at Geralt. “My trial is over but your trial has just begun, young Witcher. Nine long month, a grueling birth that you might not survive and Ten Pounds of Flesh you must give Vesemir.”

Geralt worried his bottom lip. He knew all the tales. Omega Witchers losing their child and having to repeat the ordeal all over again or dying during birth from blood lost. It was just like the Trial of the Grasses, Dreams and Mountains. Death was almost a certainty but Geralt had survived all of those. It was the last one though, Ten Pounds of Flesh. Maybe it confused him the most. “The child… if it is not ten pounds or heavier will Vesemir really make me repeat the trial?” He couldn’t comprehend how he could successfully survive nine months, childbirth and bringing a healthy Witcher into the world and still fail because the child wasn’t large enough.

Oskar sighed, rolling out of bed. Geralt followed his movement as he took one, two, three, four five, six large vials out of the bottom of his rucksack. He dropped them on Geralt’s naked stomach. “Drink an entire vile today. Mix the others with fresh valerian, thyme, ginger root and bitter kola. Drink the concoction weekly. I’ll be back in about five months to give you more. This potion will make sure that the child is large at birth. No less than twelve pounds if the mages are to be believed.”

“What is it?” Geralt asked, uncapping the vial and drinking half of it in one go. It was salty and bitter with a hint of root and herb. He didn’t complain though. Oskar was an expert at potions and casting. He trusted him, taking the lip of the vial back to his mouth.

“It’s my seed. Gathered during my last rut a few weeks ago.” Oskar said, bemusement latent in his voice. Geralt coughed as the words caught up to him, snot and seed dripping from his nose. He wiped it away quickly, grimacing as he drank the rest without thinking about it. Oskar laughed at his predicament, patting him gently on the knee. “That’s a good boy. Drink up. The seed of the babe’s Alpha father during rut will assure a healthy and fat pup.” 

“Must be true if it rhymes.” Geralt said, rolling his eyes. He gathered the vials, thinking about Oskar, weeks past, jerking himself into tiny vials during his rut. What a ridiculous thought and for Oskar to have enough foresight to gather it…

Geralt paused for a beat, looking down at the vials in his hands and the silver bracelet on his wrist. Oskar had a lot of foresight, almost as if he knew he would be the Alpha Witcher to breed Geralt through the trial. “You knew. You knew that Eryk would turn me down weeks ago. Gave you enough time to prepare your seed. Buy me a heat gift. How did you know?”

Oskar sighed, shaking his head as he got up, snatching his clothes from the nest to get dressed. “You are a smart one, little Witcher.” He turned his back to Geralt, pulling a shirt over his deeply scratched and bloody back. “Alas, it is not my tale to tell.” He sat back down to put on his pants, still not daring to face Geralt. He crawled over to the older Witcher, taking Oskar’s hand and placing it flat on his lower belly.

“If it has to do with me or this babe then I deserve to know.” Oskar turned, head bowed as he kept his hand on Geralt’s belly, face battling to show no emotion. “This is my trial, Oskar.” Geralt knew he was tempting fate and rules by calling him by his name, not Alpha or Witcher. However, it seemed to break through Oskar’s hard facade. 

“Eryk was always a strong one. I wasn’t around much but I saw him every winter, growing stronger and taller by the day. He was near seven feet before he reached his sixteenth year.” Oskar laughed to himself, gaze far away. “Maybe it was because there weren’t that many Alpha Witchers like us but I always thought of him as a…”

He shook his head, a bitter smile forming on his lips as he went on. “When I came back for the winter they told me he hadn’t survived the Trial of the Mountains. He hadn’t come back, lost for good in wolderness. Presumed dead or insane.” Geralt remembered that trial, thought he’d lose all his sense at one point. “Then by mid-winter he came back. A long scar carved into his flesh, nose to navel. Other than that he was healthy, strong. He had survived his trial.” 

“How?’ It had taken Geralt two weeks to conquer the Trial of the Mountain. He didn’t know how Eryk could have survived months. He should have gone crazy, eating poisoned roots and decaying animals. He should have been nothing but a withered wretch of his former self.

“That long scar on Eryk’s chest, Vesemir only had to touch it once before knowing that it was a mating mark. The same as the ones you put on my back. He confessed later that he met an Omega in the mountains. She had healed him at his weakest. He went into rut soon after and they mated. She was pregnant with his child when she left. That was little more than seventeen years ago.” Oskar didn’t say anymore, getting up and gathering his swords for morning practice.

Geralt sat there, frozen in his own thoughts. Long red hair and blue eyes clouding his vision, soft hands and a nurturing voice. “Did Vesemir find that Omega women? Did he take that child to train as a Witcher? A child that would be seventeen this year?”

Oskar let out a breath, hand reaching for the knob of the door as his mouth worked over words. “It was Eryk’s last trial and he passed it successfully.” He turned the knob, opening the door slightly, the sounds of early morning seeping through the door. “But he couldn’t risk it. Creating an inbred with you, in you.” With that, Oskar left, closing the door behind him.

Geralt didn’t know how long he sat there, a minute, an hour before he stood on shaky legs and started gathering his things. His mind was blissfully blank, too overwhelmed to concentrate on just one thought. Eskel was waiting for him outside his room. Geralt let him in, not saying a thing as he got dressed for the day. He was sore between the legs, throat dry but belly strangely full. Eskel rocked back and forth, eying him with worry, fiddling with the papers at his desk. “Are you well, Geralt? Are you… are you with child?”

Geralt grimaced, needing a hot bath and a cold drink. He needed to clear his head. He saw Eskel’s eyes drawn to his heating gift, maybe a hint of jealousy tinting his gaze. Geralt shook his head, not wanting to overthink anything right now. He raised the bracelet eye level to give his friend a better view. “Worry not, Eskel. I have been stuffed with child. Now get me some water.”

Geralt had decided somewhere between his second and third meal that he wouldn’t be leaving his bed that day and forced Eskel under his covers as well. Eskel didn’t have a strong scent like Oskar or Eryk but it was still comforting.

“Should I play with your hair?”

“Hmmm.”

“Do you want me to rub your back?”

“Hmmm.”

“Was Oskar very rough? Cruel? Did he hurt you?”

“No… Yes but I liked it. Being knotted by an Alpha Witcher was unlike anything I have ever experienced.” Geralt watched as the same look of jealousy overcame Eskel’s face. He had seen the same look on the other boy’s face before. When Geralt was told that he had conquered the Trial of the Grasses better than any other in his class. That he came out of it still fertile, a feat only the strongest Witchers could achieve.

“I wish… I had the choice. To be your Alpha Witcher. The one to have gotten you ‘stuffed with child’ and then we could have gone through the Trial of the Flesh together. Like we do everything together.” It all came out in one rush of breath like Eskel thought if he paused he wouldn’t have had the courage to finish.

Geralt sighed, feeling Eskel’s hand play through his long, brown hair. “Eskel, if I could choose to be like you, I would without a second thought.” Geralt thought of Eryk’s angry face from the night before, finally understanding his inner turmoil. Knowing that Geralt might be his child but never really knowing. Always wondering if his child survived the Witcher Trials or if he had perished. Only two Witchers survived to their seventeenth year, him and Eskel. “When they made Witchers, they made us sterile for a lot of reasons. One of the kinder ones is that this lifestyle isn’t suited for a child.”

Eskel was quiet for a moment, considering Geralt’s words. “Do you think it’s selfish of me? To want something of myself to go on once I’m long gone? They will write tales of us but it’s not the same. It’s not a legacy. A child.”

Geralt closed his eyes, remembering long, red hair and blue eyes but nothing about his father. “A Witcher child will never know his parents. Not really.” He knew nothing about Eryk besides a tale or two. “He will not have any memory of you to pass on to the next generation. If he even survives that long.” Geralt touched a hand to his belly, thinking about the child he will never know.

Eskel laughed something bitter against his neck. “That’s very morbid, Geralt. Even if it is the truth.” He ran a hand through his hair, picking at a few strands before laying it in front of Geralt’s eyes. “All this worrying is making you turn gray.”

Gera;t narrowed his eyes, staring at the pale, gray hair mixed between his brown ones. It glimmered in the candle light like the silver on his wrist. He closed his eyes, finally finding peace as he fell into a dreamless sleep. 


End file.
